Unspoken
by ScopesMonkey
Summary: The crew of the USS Blessing Way discover the graves of Starfleet personnel and an abandoned base on a planet never recorded to have been visited by Starfleet.
1. Forward

**_Author's note_: **I've decided to do a story with the crew of the USS _Blessing Way_, which is comprised entirely of my own original characters. Two of these characters, Shannon Tanner and T'Sarak, made their first appearance in _A Dagger I See Before Me_, and several others, including Captain Atri Yusumi and Doctors Fahad el Naser and Deraan, were introduced in _A Moment in the Sun_. If you are dead set against reading a story with only OC's, I suggest you stop here. If you are interested, and you haven't read _Dagger_ or _Sun _yet, I suggest you read those two stories first. It goes a long way toward establishing some of the characters, particularly Tanner and T'Sarak. If you do read it, I hope you enjoy it. This story is set late in the fourth season of DS9 (but there's not DS9 in it). This story technically is set in the main ST universe, but if you imagined a few Cardassian and Bajoran crew members, it could easily in the _Greensleeves_ universe, too.

**_Disclaimer:_**Star Trek and all the characters associated with it are property of Paramount Studios, and I am not making any money off of them. All original characters, situations, and settings are my property and may not be used without permission.

**_Background: _** The USS _Blessing Way_ was launched approximately six weeks after the _T'Kail_ returned from the Gamma Quadrant. It is on a six-year deep space mission heading for the Gamma Quadrant via the Beta Quadrant. It is a very small exploratory ship, comprising about eighty crew members and several civilians. The main purpose is scientific study and cultural contact.

**_The crew of the USS _Blessing Way:**

(I may not introduce all of these characters, but I made the list for myself and thought it would be beneficial to the readers to help keep everyone straight.)

Captain Atri Yusumi (human female): Captain

Commander Vanek (Vulcan male): First Officer

Lieutenant Commander Zimna Dein (joined Trill male; former host: Karas Dein): Chief of Security/Tactical

Lieutenant Commander Shannon Tanner (human female): Chief Science Officer

(Lieutenant) Doctor Fahad el Naser (human male): Chief Medical Officer

Lieutenant Commander Aleshma Sh'rain (Andorian female, mate to Doctor Deraan): Chief Engineer

Lieutenant Maris Fairclough (human female): Assistant Chief Engineer

Lieutenant T'Sarak (Vulcan female): Science officer

(Lieutenant) Doctor Jon'len Deraan (Andorian male, mate of Lieutenant Commander Sh'rain): Doctor

Ensign Soran (Vulcan male): Science officer

Ensign Marik Meress (half Bolian, 1/4 human, 1/4 Vulcan) Chief helm officer

T'Palik (Vulcan female, wife of Commander Vanek): civilian exobiologist

T'Mela (Vulcan female, youngest daughter of Vanek and T'Palik)

Lieutenant Turan (Vulcan male) science officer

Ensign Hareen Jaim (Bolian female) science officer

Treiss and Ch'lan (Andorian female; Andorian male) mates to Deraan and Sh'rain

Ensign Isla Kelly (human female) nurse

Ensign Nechek (Vulcan male) security officer


	2. Chapter 1

Lieutenant Commander Shannon Tanner hated EV suits.

It had been the worst part of Starfleet training for her, despite all of the preparation and the time spent in zero-g.

She supposed if she got to the root of the problem, it wasn't really the suits. It was EV excursions themselves. They made her want to throw up. T'Sarak had thought all Tanner required was some mental discipline. Eleven months on a Vulcan science ship hadn't helped at all, though. Her body seemed program to react unhappily when she stepped into the protective suits.

At least this time she wasn't in space.

She glanced up at the crimson sky stretching above her. The orange sun blazed above them, small but close. And there was real gravity, not the borrowed gravity leant by magnetic boots. Here, up was up. At least, she could allow her brain that happy delusion without a nagging feeling that she was just trying to convince herself in order to keep her sanity and her supper.

The temperature on the planet, which was class-M, was hotter than she would have preferred, probably wouldn't have bothered the two Vulcan lieutenants, T'Sarak and Turan. Ensign Hareen Jaim, who was Bolian, probably would have suffered some effects after a hard day's work, as would Tanner. Tanner was good at pacing herself, and Bolians were hardier than humans, but Tanner had no desire to stretch the limits of their physical capabilities.

It was the threat of serious illness that had forced them into the EV suits, however, not the surface temperature. The _Blessing Way_'s computer had detected a fatal virus in the air and the away team had suited up accordingly. Tanner had considered backing out, but she was the chief science officer and didn't really want to try and explain her reaction to Captain Yusumi. She could picture the look Yusumi would have given her. The suit was a better option.

"I am reading some large animal life, but mostly insects and arachnids," Turan reported. Tanner turned her attention smoothly back to her crew.

"Anything of interest in this area?" she asked.

"Snakes," the Vulcan man replied.

"Snakes," Tanner repeated. "Stay sharp, then."

The other two, T'Sarak and Jaim, nodded. Tanner glanced around again, taking in the scenery quickly. To the north and east, a range of hills or old mountains. They were worn and rocky, with little to no vegetation on them. The rock was mostly yellowy-brown, glaring in the sunlight. To the southwest, a large lake glimmered in the sunlight. If it was natural or artificial was another question. This planet had been inhabited, once. It appeared the virus forcing them into EV suits had killed everyone off.

If it was natural or artificial was also open to debate.

To the west was rolling landscape, mostly forested, but with some open, grassy areas, in start contrast to the barren hills. The colour transitions were abrupt and difficult on Tanner's human eyes, especially in the brightness of the small, ferocious sun. She adjusted her visor more, increasing its light sensitivity, then glanced around a final time.

"T'Sarak and I will head to the lake," Tanner said. "Turan and Hareen, head northeast. Don't go further than five kilometers. I want to be in easy reach of you in case something happens."

The Vulcan nodded and he and Jaim headed away over the rocky terrain with its patchy grasses. The grass here was thinning out considerably as it headed toward the rocky hills. Here, it was a dusty green, or more often brown, struggling to survive as the terrain grew rougher. There were a few hardier types of plants, too, braving the barrenness and the constant breeze. The suit was also a shield against a persistent wind, for which Tanner was grateful. She had worked in constant wind several times before and found it wore her down after a few hours.

T'Sarak and Tanner headed toward the lake, the ground cover vegetation increasing slightly and becoming greener as they approached the water.

"There was definitely a settlement over here," Tanner said, consulting her tricorder. "I'm reading the remains of buildings, mostly titanium and aluminum."

T'Sarak nodded.

"I'm reading it, too," she replied.

"Let's go have a closer look," Tanner said. They circled the shore of the lake for a few hundred meters until they came upon what was definitely an abandoned settlement of some sort. The buildings, those that were left, had fallen into disrepair. Some of them had collapsed in on themselves, some of them had collapsed onto their neighbours. Fallen roofs and walls were covered in dirt and sand, and it was obvious that small animals had made their homes among the wreckage.

"No life signs," T'Sarak reported.

"Let's go see if any of the equipment is still functioning," Tanner said.

They made their way into the cluster of deserted buildings, entering the first that was open and looked relatively stable. There was no way of determining what the place had been; by the looks of it, every trace of habitation had been removed. It was eerie, like standing in a pillaged cemetery. Tanner didn't like it, but swallowed on the feeling and made herself look around, peering into the shadows and the dust that danced lightly in the few shafts of sunlight that found their way in through cracks in the structure.

"It almost looks as if it's been looted," Tanner commented.

She saw T'Sarak nod. The lights from their helmets, now necessary, bounced off the dirty grey walls.

"It's entirely possible," her friend agreed. "Any races in this area may have made use of free materials. Or perhaps the people who established the base took everything with them when they left."

"But why did they leave?" Tanner asked. "And where did they go?"

T'Sarak didn't say anything; Vulcans weren't given to attempting to answer rhetorical questions. Tanner supposed the virus was a good enough reason to leave. Had they unleashed it accidentally upon themselves and then fled? Or had someone else set out to destroy them? Had they succeeded? She felt a twinge of frustration and took a deep breath to wash it away. Eleven months living on a Vulcan ship had taught her a lot, not least the ability to control her emotions.

The sound of the com cut through the dead air around them.

"Turan to Tanner."

Tanner tapped her combadge.

"Tanner here."

"Commander, I believe you and Commander T'Sarak should join us. We've found something."

Tanner and T'Sarak scrambled up the rocky slope and found Turan and Jaim just over the crest of the hill. The area in which the other team had been sent to work was hilly and rocky. Tanner wondered if the planet had been this inhospitable when it had been settled, or if the virus was responsible for the way the area was now.

"What is it?" she asked, not needing to raise her voice. The com links inside the EV suits relayed her words to all three of her team members. Jaim was crouching down next to a shallow hole in the ground and Turan had risen and turned to face the human and Vulcan women. Jaim looked up, beckoning them over, and Tanner and T'Sarak hurried across the uneven ground.

The hole contained several scraps of cloth, a black metal instrument of some kind, and a small silver device.

"What is it?" Tanner repeated.

"The remnants of a Starfleet uniform, an old communicator and old tricorder," Jaim replied.

Tanner and T'Sarak exchanged a look; Tanner had never seen her friend look surprised. It was a bit disconcerting, on a Vulcan face. But they had checked the Federation database before beaming down, and there were no records of any Starfleet or Federation ships in this area, let alone away teams on the surface.

"How old is it?" Tanner asked.

"Judging by the tricorder readings, approximately one hundred years," Turan replied.

"One hundred years," Tanner repeated softly, to herself.

"And there are other graves," Jaim said, nodding to her right. Tanner followed the Bolian's gaze and saw the tell tale low mounds on the surface. "We've counted eighteen in the area."

Tanner raised her eyebrows.

"Buried with their instruments? Why?"

Jaim shook her head.

"No idea," she replied. She looked away for a moment, then back.

"Ensign?" Tanner said sharply.

"Nothing, sir. Just– dizzy. These suits."

Tanner almost nodded in agreement, then stopped herself short. Jaim had never complained about the EV suits before. Of course, she wasn't required to tell Tanner she disliked them, but it seemed wrong. Tanner had always listened to her intuition, and T'Sarak had trained her to do so even more now that her telepathic abilities were active.

She rose carefully, looking around her, and cautiously opened her mind. Sensations flooded her mind instantly; after a hundred years, they hadn't diminished. For a moment, Tanner felt she would drown in the panic and the desperation, but kept herself afloat. She set her jaw and balled her hands into fists in their gloves.

"Commander?" Turan asked.

She shook her head, holding up one hand, aware T'Sarak was watching her carefully. Tanner concentrated on the graves, then felt a stab of nausea hit her. She turned back to her crew.

"We need to get out of here," Tanner said. "This place isn't safe."

"Commander," Turan said again, but T'Sarak gave her a quick look. She alone out of all the crew knew about Tanner's genetic anomaly.

"Something happened here, something– evil." There was no other word for the sensation she was getting now. Something had killed these people, deliberately. Jaim moved to stand up, then pitched forward, almost falling into the grave. Turan, with his quick Vulcan reflexes, caught her, hauling her back and holding onto her. She swayed a moment, then collapsed altogether. Alarmed, Tanner hit her combadge.

"Away team to _Blessing Way_. Emergency beam–" She heard her own voice catch and tried to swallow, but felt as if she could not move. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw T'Sarak stumble, as if she'd been hit or her legs had given out. Tanner tried to move to catch her friend, but her body no longer worked. She saw the empty red sky again as she fell, and felt the impact on her knees before everything vanished.

* * *

Shannon Tanner awoke in the darkness, unable to move. Instinct tried to kick in, but Starfleet and Vulcan training overrode it almost immediately.

Don't_ panic_, she told herself, bringing her fear to heel. She lay very still – mostly because she could not do anything else – and very carefully dropped the mental walls T'Sarak had so patiently taught her to build. It was her Vulcan friend's presence she sensed first, followed by that of Turan, then Jaim. All three of them seemed to be unconscious.

The next mind she picked up was Doctor Fahad el Naser, the _Blessing Way_'s chief medical officer. There was no one else around, but Tanner's ears were still working, and she could hear the faint hum and beeps of machinery. It seemed she was in sickbay.

That was a good start, but she had no idea what had happened to them. Trying to read el Naser's mind was impossible. His thoughts were too scattered at the moment and his mental voice was a mixture of English and another language, probably Arabic, which Tanner did not understand.

She pondered her options for a moment, then decided she really only had one good one. It made her nervous, but Julian Bashir had told her she could trust el Naser, if she needed to. Now she needed to, quite desperately.

"_Fahad,"_ she thought. He nearly fell off of his chair, so great was his shock. Tanner felt it like a blow. She recoiled mentally for a moment, then rallied.

"Shannon?" she heard his voice asking, hesitantly. Then a couple of reluctant footsteps.

"_Yes, it's me. Listen carefully. You're not crazy. You're hearing my voice in your mind. I'm a telepath."_

There was more shock and confusion. She heard the words "I didn't know you were a Betazoid" flit through his mind and wanted to shake her head.

"_You have to speak out loud. It's hard for me to get clear words from your mind. And I'm not a Betazoid. I'm human."_

She heard him come closer, the sound of his boots loud and lonely on the hard floor of the sickbay.

"How?" he asked, stunned. Then she felt realization dawn in him. He was a smart man; Tanner had guessed he'd put it together quickly. "Your brain wave readings."

"_Yes. I have a genetic anomaly in one of the sequences coding for my brain, or something like that. It's a long story. I'll explain, but right now, I need _you _to tell me what's happened."_

Tanner heard him stop and the strength of his presence was such that she suspected he was standing next to her. The sound of a tricorder confirmed it, then she felt his hand on her arm. Despite his shock, which was strong, she felt a profound sense of concern. Tanner was surprised herself; she'd never realized he cared so much about her.

That was for another time. She set her own emotions aside, as the Vulcans had so painstakingly taught her to do, and refocused her concentration.

"You and the others were infected by the virus on the planet's surface. We don't know how yet. Engineering is working on it, but Aleshma told us it looks like the virus was designed to penetrate your equipment."

"_Designed?"_ Tanner asked. She could feel how discomfited el Naser was by the sound of her voice in his head. She understood. _Try being on my end_, she thought wryly, but kept that to herself. At least he was trying. Starfleet officers were trained to deal with the unusual and unexpected and to act like professionals under any circumstance. El Naser was doing an admirable job.

"It was genetically engineered," he replied. "It has distinct markers, although they're subtle. And the virus was designed to paralyze its victim so he or she couldn't seek help. That means, without any external assistance, the victim would die. A dead host isn't beneficial to a parasite."

"_What about the rest of the crew?" _Tanner demanded, fighting to keep another wave of rising panic down.

"We had the four of you in containment fields until we eradicated it from the environmental systems. Deraan and I devised a vaccine to keep the uninfected from being exposed, but we haven't been able to find a cure for any of you yet."

"_How are the others?"_

"Unconscious and paralyzed, but alive. We're able to keep their vital systems going on life support until we figure this out."

"_Fahad, you said this virus was deliberately engineered. We have to get back to the planet."_

"We're not going anywhere near there!" el Naser replied firmly. "The captain's already put up warning buoys."

"_No, listen to me!"_ Tanner insisted. _"We found graves on the surface. At least eighteen Starfleet officers were buried down there! With their tricorders. They were murdered, Fahad. Left to die from this virus. We need to get ahold of those tricorders. Whoever put them in the graves might have done so for a reason."_

"Starfleet officers?" the doctor asked, shocked. "There's no record of any Starfleet ship in this area."

"_I know," _Tanner replied. _"But the equipment was about a hundred years old, by Turan's judgment."_

"A hundred years? Are you sure?"

"_No, I don't know anything about equipment from that time. But Turan is certain."_

"There was no treaty with the Klingons back then," el Naser said. "This was too close to the border for comfort."

"_They were here,"_ Tanner said. _"And we need to find out why. Eighteen people, maybe more, died because of this. It wasn't an accident."_

"And what am I supposed to tell Captain Yusumi?" the doctor enquired.

"_Whatever you need to," _Tanner replied, keeping the resignation out of her mental voice.

El Naser hesitated; Tanner felt it.

"How many people know about this?" he asked. "About you, I mean."

"_Including you now, four," _Tanner replied.

"I'll think of something to tell Yusumi," he promised her. "In the meantime, we'll keep working on this. Do you have any objections to being treated by the EMH if necessary?"

Instinct made Tanner want to shake her head. It was frustrating not to be able to.

"_No,"_ she replied.

"Good. We'll get to the bottom of this."

* * *

It was oh-six hundred when everyone convened in the briefing room, looking tired. Captain Atri Yusumi looked slightly worn, but calm. Commander Vanek, who was Vulcan, looked exactly like he always looked: composed and rested. El Naser felt a twinge of envy for that Vulcan constitution. Lieutenant Commander Aleshma Sh'rain, their chief engineer, looked as if she hadn't slept much. Deraan, el Naser noted, looked about the same. He wondered if their other mates, Treiss and Ch'lan, hadn't slept well either. He had no real idea what it like for Andorian mates, how closely they felt the stress of their family members. The ship's security and tactical chief, Zimna Dein, a joined Trill, looked as if he'd rested well enough. El Naser had always wondered if that was an effect of the symbiont: either the ability to sleep when necessary or a strong immunity to fatigue. Ensign Marik Meress, their chief helm officer, looked unsettled and restive.

El Naser himself hadn't had any sleep, trying vainly to find a cure for his four patients in sickbay and struggling to think of some way to cover up Tanner's abilities while at the same time convince Yusumi to return to the planet.

"Eighteen graves," Sh'rain said, saving el Naser an entire night's worrying and devising. "Their tricorders recorded this shortly before we beamed them back to the ship. The unusual thing about these graves is that the one they examined, at least, had Starfleet equipment in it."

There was a shocked murmur from around the table; el Naser joined in, and not just for appearances. It was one thing to hear it from Tanner. It was quite another to have it confirmed by her team's tricorders. It made it seem more real.

"How old?" Yusumi asked, demonstrating her uncanny ability to hit the nail right on the head.

"About a hundred years, according to the scans they took."

"Why would anyone bury their dead with tricorders?" Dein asked.

"To send a message," el Naser said. All assembled shifted their gazes to him. He made an almost dismissive gesture with one hand, thinking of Tanner lying in the sickbay, able to communicate with him despite the fact that she could not move. It was a strange sensation, having someone else's voice inside one's head. "We discovered the virus was engineered. That means the people buried on the surface probably died of it. What if they wanted to tell us something? To get a message to the people who would eventually find them?"

Yusumi didn't look convinced, but Vanek was nodding slowly.

"That is a logical conclusion," he said. He glanced at Yusumi and saw her doubt. "Captain, there is no logic in deliberately burying someone with his or her equipment unless it was meant for someone to find. Tricorders do not generally constitute grave goods."

El Naser covered up a smile at the comment and noticed Dein trying to do the same. Who said Vulcans didn't have a sense of humour?

"Good point," the captain said, either not noticing or ignoring the expressions of some of her officers. "But we can't go back there and get back to the surface, not without being exposed to the virus."

"We could beam up the equipment we know of," Sh'rain suggested.

"And if Deraan and I can come up with a cure for this thing, we might be able to flood the atmosphere with it. If we can destroy the virus, we can easily get back to the surface and find what we're looking for," el Naser said.

"How big of an 'if" is that?" Yusumi asked.

"I think we can do it," el Naser said, leaning forward, folding his hands on the table. In fact, they _had_ to do it. He had no intentions of letting the four science officers in sickbay remain comatose for the rest of their lives, dependent on life support. "I have the EMH running as well; it could be useful in conducting our research."

"How?" Vanek enquired.

"The EMH contains almost all of the medical knowledge available to Starfleet medical," Deraan replied. "It probably knows about research Fahad and I have never heard of." The human doctor nodded his head in support of his colleague's statement.

"Keep me updated," Yusumi said. "I don't think we have a choice but to go back there. At least one Starfleet officer was buried on that planet, where no records exist of any Starfleet mission ever finding this place. Someone is trying to keep us in the dark. Dein, I want you and your teams working on our sensors and weapons. If whoever did this is still around, even after a hundred years, I want to know immediately. Sh'rain, work with the doctors in establishing decontamination procedures for any equipment we bring on board, and get a team together to prepare atmospheric charges. Vanek, you and I are going to research every piece of information we can find on this sector. We might be able to use T'Palik's help here, too. Meress, work with engineering to make sure engines and navigation are at one hundred percent. If we need to leave in a hurry, I want to be able to do so. Dismissed."

The assembled officers rose and filed out, leaving Yusumi and Vanek in the briefing room to begin their research. Deraan bid good-bye to Sh'rain and joined el Naser in a turbolift heading toward sickbay.

"Any progress overnight?" the Andorian physician asked as the small capsule bore them quickly toward the medical bay.

"None," el Naser said. It wasn't really a lie. He'd made no progress in reviving any of his patients. And it hadn't really been him who had made progress communicating with one of them. Tanner had done that on her own.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Deraan admitted. "You look like you've been dragged through a warp core. Get some sleep."

El Naser shook his head.

"You'll need my help," he pointed out.

"Those four science officers do, too," Deraan replied. "But you won't be any help to them if you're exhausted."

"Chief medical officer," el Naser replied.

"I can override you," Deraan said.

"Do me a favour and don't. Not this time. I need to do this."

Deraan shot el Naser a look the human doctor decided not to interpret. The turbolift doors hissed open, admitting them to an empty corridor. They stepped into sickbay a moment later, greeted by the smiling face of the EMH who was helping Lieutenant T'Sarak sit up. One of the nurses, Ensign Kelly, was assisting Lieutenant Turan. Both Vulcans looked bewildered – an expression el Naser was definitely not used to seeing on any Vulcan's face. They looked tired as well, but, aside from that, fine.

"Good news," the hologram said. "Two of your patients have recovered."


	3. Chapter 2

El Naser headed for T'Sarak, Deraan for Turan.

"How?" el Naser demanded as the Vulcan female sat up fully, one hand on her head, looking around the sickbay as if it were new to her.

"I'm not sure," the EMH replied. "They regained consciousness only a couple of minutes ago. Without any help from us."

"Why haven't Tanner or Jaim woken up?" Deraan asked from across the room, taking a tricorder and beginning a scan of his patient.

"I don't know that, either," the EMH said. "We haven't had time to study this yet."

"How do you feel, T'Sarak?" el Naser asked.

The Vulcan stared at him a moment, then shook her head.

"Disoriented," she replied. El Naser accepted a medical tricorder from Kelly and began scanning T'Sarak. "What happened?"

The doctor ran through everything he knew, quickly, speaking loudly enough so that Turan would hear the explanation as well. T'Sarak listened impassively, nodding only when he'd finished speaking.

"Isla, get me an analgesic," el Naser said to Kelly, then turned back to his patient. "I'll give you something for that headache. But these readings don't make sense. Deraan, are you getting the virus still present in Turan's system?"

"Yes."

"I'm getting it in T'Sarak. Why would they just wake up?"

"Perhaps the stronger Vulcan immune system has asserted itself," the EMH suggested.

"Could be," el Naser agreed, studying his tricorder. "Your immune response has increased," he said to his patient.

"Vulcans are naturally more resistant to disease than humans or Bolians," T'Sarak pointed out.

"I know," el Naser said, nodding. "I wasn't expecting such a sudden recovery, though. You've still got the virus, so we're going to have to figure out how to cure you of it regardless. And you're both staying here for observation."

T'Sarak nodded, then frowned slightly.

"Lieutenant?" el Naser asked.

"I'm only tired, Doctor," she assured him. El Naser nodded and took the hypospray from Kelly, injecting the contents into the Vulcan's neck.

"Lie back down," he said, helping her do so. She turned her eyes to the ceiling and el Naser watched her face, vaguely troubled. This had been too sudden. Vulcan immune system or not, how could both of them have come to so quickly? Less than an hour ago, they were both paralyzed, their bodies under the grip of this virus. Now they seemed to be winning the fight against it.

He glanced over his shoulder at Tanner and Jaim, who were still and both unconscious according to the instruments tracking their vital functions. He frowned to himself. This virus had been fatal to everyone on that planet.

Apparently, he reminded himself. They had no idea if anyone had escaped. Maybe some Vulcans had. Maybe Vulcans were naturally immune to it. He had no idea.

It was extremely frustrating.

"Get some rest," he advised her. "We're going to get back to work on this."

"Understood," T'Sarak replied. El Naser hesitated. Something still felt wrong about this. Some undercurrent in the Vulcan's voice, in her manner, maybe.

He shook his head. He was projecting his own discomfort onto T'Sarak, who had had a lifetime of training in dealing with her emotions and reactions. Sometimes, he envied the Vulcans for their lack of emotional attachment. It would certainly make being a doctor that much easier. But whatever he was feeling, he couldn't attach that to T'Sarak or Turan.

He gave the hypospray and tricorder back to Kelly, then gestured for Deraan and the EMH to join him in the lab.

The monitor blurred in front of him, despite his best efforts to keep his eyes focused. El Naser rubbed his face, trying to coax some life back into his exhausted brain. He looked up to see Deraan frowning at him and the EMH giving a knowing look over the top of a padd.

"Fahad. Go back to your quarters and sleep. Don't make me order you," Deraan said in a voice that brooked no argument. El Naser swallowed any protests and rose, his legs feeling like lead.

"Isla!" Deraan called and the nurse appeared. "Make sure Fahad gets to his quarters."

Kelly nodded and led the reluctant doctor away. The corridors of the _Blessing Way_ were mercifully empty; most of the crew was either on duty or sleeping. Like he should be. Kelly saw him to his suite and returned to sickbay. El Naser stepped inside, ordered the lights on half, and glanced around wearily. The quarters on this deep space vessel were small, but definitely comfortable. They did not offer the luxury of space as the quarters on a galaxy class ship would offer, but those immense vessels were designed to house over a thousand people, and that did not include the generous space given to guest quarters. The _Blessing Way_ had a maximum carrying capacity of one hundred and five people.

Despite their size, he liked his quarters, which had grown to be like home in the year he'd been living on the ship. Part of that was Starfleet training; home often had to be wherever one was assigned. The other was the ship itself. El Naser sometimes thought he'd been waiting for this assignment without ever knowing it. His medical staff was the most skilled group he'd ever had the privilege of working with. He respected the captain and first officer, and, indeed, all of the senior staff. Captain Yusumi was a hard woman, but fair, and Vanek was a Vulcan, so much the same.

He exchanged his uniform for a pair of dark green pajamas and crawled unhappily into bed. What he wouldn't give, he thought, for an endurance like a Vulcan. He felt as if he were abandoning his patients in sickbay. Deraan was more than competent enough to handle the situation, however, and, as much as the EMH got on el Naser's nerves, it _was_ programmed with extensive medical research knowledge.

"Lights off," he muttered, sinking into his pillow and letting himself fall asleep. The silence of his quarters was replaced by the sound of the wind, the darkness by the light of the sun. His parents had always owned horses, and el Naser had spent his childhood learning to ride them. Fine Arabians, easily obtainable in the U.A.E., and plenty of open space in which to run them. He suddenly knew he was dreaming and gave a shout of joy, clinging to the mane of a black mare as she charged across the open land.

And then he was standing on the ground again, with no more horse in sight, under a crimson sky lit by a bright orange sun. El Naser glanced around, puzzled, then heard the sound of voices coming from nearby. He listened carefully, then realized with some surprise that it was Ensign Kelly and Lieutenant Turan speaking about something.

"Hello?" he called. "Isla?"

The force of the surprise hit him like a stone. The sky and the yellowish, rocky terrain about him wavered, then he heard a stunned voice ask:

"_Fahad?"_

"Shannon?"

There was another moment of confusion and el Naser awoke in his bed, blinking in the darkness.

"Computer, time," he said.

"The time is oh-nine hundred thirty-two hours."

He'd been asleep for almost an hour and a half.

"_Fahad?"_ Tanner's voice asked again.

"Yes?" he said cautiously.

"_So it was you. I'm sorry about that. It happens to me on occasion, at least, it used to when I first found out about this. But I'm not used to being paralyzed."_

El Naser nodded slowly. He wasn't certain what else to do. He felt like he was having a conservation to the thin air.

"How the hell can you hear me, anyway?" he asked.

He heard her laughter in his head while the silence of his quarters pressed in around him. It was the most unnerving sensation he'd ever experienced.

"_When you say something, it becomes clearer in your mind. Most people think what they say while they say it. Most of the time."_

"All right," he said slowly. This was difficult to accept.

"_I know that feeling,"_ Tanner snorted. _"Can you tell me what's going on? I can't understand a word of Andorian. How did you cure T'Sarak and Turan?"_

"We didn't. They just woke up. As far as we can tell, the Vulcan immune can overcome the virus enough to push it out of their central nervous systems. But they still have it."

"_I'd like to talk to T'Sarak, but Ensign Kelly won't let her initiate a mind meld."_

"She won't?" el Naser asked. "Why not?"

"_It's not exactly standard medical practice, is it? But T'Sarak's Vulcan. I can't communicate with her mentally unless we're melded."_

"I'll talk to her about it," el Naser promised.

"_Tell me what's happening." _It was a request more than an order.

"We're headed back for the planet, to get the tricorders. We'll be there in–" he cut himself off. "Computer, estimated time of arrival."

"Nine hours, ten minutes," the computer replied.

"In just over nine hours," he continued.

"_Good," _Tanner replied firmly. _"Any closer to finding a cure for us?"_

"I don't know," el Naser said. "I was sent home, to get some sleep."

"_Ah,"_ Tanner replied. _"Then you'd better do that. Doctor's orders, after all. Good night."_

He could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke the last sentence.

"No–" he started to say, but she'd already withdrawn. El Naser could feel the difference. He doubted he'd be able to explain it properly to another human. How do you describe the feeling of knowing you're alone in your own head? It was an automatic sensation for most humans. But now, it felt somewhat strange.

He lay back down in the near darkness, staring at the ceiling, trying not to feel annoyed, until he fell asleep.

* * *

Deraan looked up when he heard the sound of raised voices coming from the treatment area of sickbay. The EMH, who had been combing all available research on any virus like this one, also raised its head. Deraan motioned for it to stay where it was and stood, left the small lab and emerged into the dimmer lighting where the four patients were currently housed. He saw T'Sarak standing between Kelly and Turan, impassive, while the human woman and Vulcan male squared off.

"What's going on?" he demanded, antennae twitching.

"It is illogical to argue this point, Turan," T'Sarak said, not in way of reply, but to the other Vulcan.

"This is unnecessary!" Turan snapped and, indeed, it was a snap. Deraan was momentarily taken aback, physically. He backed up one step, eyebrows shooting up, antennae vibrating in surprise.

"What's unnecessary?" he asked, regaining his composure and stepping forward again. The Vulcan turned his attention to the Andorian and Deraan felt a thrill of unease. There had been a time when their two races had been at war, had deliberately antagonized each other. Of course, Deraan was thirty-two and Turan only seventy-five, still young for a Vulcan. Neither of them remembered that time, or remembered that animosity. Deraan felt it travel through the Vulcan's piercing gaze, however.

"Why are you keeping us here?" the Vulcan demanded. "T'Sarak and I are no longer ill."

"Yes, you are," Deraan said. "Just because you aren't displaying symptoms doesn't mean you aren't still sick, Turan. You still have the virus in your system. We need to keep you here, in case it flares up again."

"We are Vulcans," Turan said. "It should not affect us."

"Nor should emotions," T'Sarak said smoothly. "Yet you are obviously being affected by yours, Turan."

Deraan nodded. He saw Kelly move slightly, picking up a hypospray. Turan saw it, too.

"No!" he snapped, lunging for her, but T'Sarak was faster. In one smooth, quick motion, she had pushed Turan against a wall and pinned him there. The Vulcan male struggled and Deraan forced himself not to stare, plucking the hypo from Kelly's hand. He had no idea T'Sarak was so strong. She had Turan held firmly, despite his struggles. Deraan reached around her and injected the hypo into the resisting man's neck. A moment later, Turan sagged in T'Sarak's iron grip. She helped the doctor and nurse lift him onto his bed and lie him down.

Deraan picked up a medical tricorder and scanned the Vulcan man quickly.

"Elevated adrenaline and seratonin levels," he said. "We'll keep him sedated for now until we figure out what happened. Let's get a neural monitor on him."

T'Sarak stepped back as Deraan and Kelly attached a small monitor to Turan's forehead and calibrated it to the display panel next to his bed. Deraan frowned at them; they were definitely not normal for a Vulcan, even a Vulcan under stress. Picking up his tricorder, he turned to T'Sarak.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Not as bad as Turan," she replied, nodding to the supine figure. "But certainly not well."

"Your adrenaline and seratonin levels are elevated as well, but not as much as Turan's are. This could easily be an effect of the virus. I could give you a sedative, if you want."

"I have no desire to fight Ensign Kelly, Doctor," T'Sarak replied. "I would, however, appreciate a quiet place in which to meditate, and my meditation lamp."

"I'll get someone to bring it by," the doctor promised. "As for a quiet place, will the office do?"

T'Sarak nodded.

"My lamp is on the table beside my bed," she informed him.

"I'll get it here right away," he said. "But you have to promise you'll tell me or Isla me if you start to feel unbalanced."

"Of course," she replied. He gestured to her to precede him to the office, mostly so that he could examine the readings on the tricorder without her seeing his face. It was worrying to see a Vulcan lash out like that, especially one with whom he had worked for the past year. Turan had never shown any hint of emotion, of course. He was concerned that T'Sarak would succumb to this, too. She seemed more in control, but it couldn't possibly be age-related. T'Sarak was very young for a Vulcan, only forty-seven.

He snapped the tricorder shut as they reached the office. It was a small space, used by both doctors when needed, which wasn't often.

"This will be sufficient, Doctor, thank you," T'Sarak said.

"I'll bring your lamp when it gets here," he said. She nodded, settling onto the floor in a cross-legged position. As Deraan stepped away, he was aware of the lights dimming behind him. If only Turan had thought to do this.

If only they knew what the hell was going on.

* * *

"Deraan to el Naser!"

El Naser awoke with a start, half sitting up before he was fully conscious. He reached out automatically, tapping his combadge, which he had placed on his bedside table.

"El Naser here," he said, trying to shake the sleep from his voice.

"Fahad, we have a problem down here. Turan is out of control, and T'Sarak's gone."

"Gone? Gone where?"

"We don't know." Deraan's voice was terse, hinting at the Andorian temper that lay beneath. The other doctor was one of the most social Andorians el Naser had ever met, but he retained that streak of anger that led to violence when he was uncertain. He was good at keeping a rein on it, but el Naser could hear the frustration clear as a klaxon. "She left her combadge and managed to slip out through the Jefferies tubes, we think."

El Naser flipped the blankets back from his bed and rose, pulling off his pajamas and hurrying into his uniform.

"Well, it's a small ship. She can't have gotten far. I'm on my way down."

"Security's already looking for her. She can't hide for long, but the problem is, she might be able to hide for long enough."

"Long enough for what?" el Naser asked, emerging into the bright corridor and wincing against the light.

"To do harm to herself, or someone else. Turan was acting out earlier; it seems the virus is inhibiting operation of the frontal lobe and increasing hormone levels in the Vulcans' systems."

El Naser scowled to himself, stepping into a turbolift and ordering it to sickbay. That was bad news. Limiting the production of the frontal lobe meant shutting down the brain's rational center, which in a human was bad enough. In a Vulcan, it was disastrous.

"We have Turan restrained for now, but no one here is strong enough to hold him if he breaks free. Dein sent down Ensign Nechek, but I don't want this to be Vulcan against Vulcan."

"Neither do I," el Naser replied, stepping out of the lift. A passing crew woman gave him a slightly startled look, then appeared to realize he was talking over the com. He gave her a curt nod, hurrying down the corridor toward sickbay. The doors hissed open and Deraan turned to face him, holding out a padd.

"Here's the readings we took initially, when Turan started acting out. The second ones I just took a few minutes ago. Adrenaline levels are through the roof."

"I've never seen anything like this," el Naser said, studying the readings. He glanced up: the EMH was administering something to the now unconscious Vulcan – for the first time, el Naser was truly thankful to Doctor Zimmerman for developing this technology. Nurse Kelly was monitoring the vital signs of the human and Bolian patients.

"I have," Deraan said. "Although not this sudden. These are the hormonal levels of a Vulcan going into pon farr."

El Naser looked back at his colleague quickly.

"What?"

Deraan only nodded, his antennae twitching, his expression grim.

"We specifically made sure any unmated Vulcans weren't going to go through pon farr while we were out here," el Naser said. "And T'Sarak is only forty-seven. She's too young for that."

"I know. I said the readings are elevated. The virus is causing it. And T'Sarak is too young, you're right. That's why I'm afraid she might hurt herself, or someone else."

"Any change in the other patients?" el Naser asked.

"No. We're still working on a cure. We're getting closer, but not close enough to help them yet."

"How long until we reach the planet?"

"Three hours, give or take," Deraan replied.

"Damn," el Naser swore. "We need the information that's on those tricorders."

"It might be even longer before we get that," Deraan replied. "I spoke to Aleshma and she reminded me those tricorders have been without a power source and buried in the ground for a century. There's no telling what kind of shape they'll be in."

"About the same shape we're in," el Naser said.

Deraan grunted.

"All right, let's get back to work. Security can look for T'Sarak." He gestured at Kelly to keep an eye on the patients and beckoned the other doctor and the EMH to follow. "Come on."

* * *

Tanner had been listening to the conversations around her, struggling with her feelings of frustrating and helplessness. It was a harsh reminder of her humanity, feeling so powerless. For all the Vulcan training she'd had, she was not a Vulcan, and had to wrestle with her emotions more often than she wanted to. Especially now. She'd listened to the panic when Deraan had discovered T'Sarak was missing, and had been mentally searching for her friend since then.

The problem was that T'Sarak, as a Vulcan, had very strong mental shields. And, knowing T'Sarak, she'd realized Tanner was looking for her and was very adeptly keeping the human from locating her. It was difficult enough for Tanner to pick up a Vulcan presence at the best of times. Usually, to her, they were pale shadows, whispers of a presence whereas most other minds shouted their identities to her.

_Come on, T'Sarak_, she thought, stretching her already strained senses as far as they would go. For a moment, she brushed against something, but was slammed back with a ferocity she'd never have expected from any Vulcan, especially T'Sarak. Tanner reached out again, immediately, but whatever she'd found a moment ago was gone.


	4. Chapter 3

The steady hum of the warp engines engaged at warp eight was comforting background noise to Lieutenant Commander Sh'rain. With all the medical staff needed in sickbay to help with the infected crew members, she and her staff were on their own in establishing the containment field they would need to use when the century old tricorders and communicators were beamed on board. She wasn't concerned: she was married to a doctor and she had confidence in her team that was well deserved.

Sh'rain hadn't been certain that her team would work out when the _Blessing Way_ had left dry dock at Mars over a year ago. Deraan had told her not to worry, but she had, back then. She wasn't as accustomed to being around other races as he was. They had both been at Starfleet Academy together, although Treiss and Chlan had obstinately refused to leave Andor to join them on Earth. They had visited twice, but found the climate to hot and dry. Sh'rain had understood, but found it easier to deal with Deraan's attitude than those of her other mates. He was more willing to accept new experiences. He had worked two years on Betazed as part of a medical exchange, while she had returned to Andor, to work as an engineer. When the assignments for the _Blessing Way_ came in, it had taken both Sh'rain and Deraan to convince Treiss and Chlan to join them. They had no children yet, so Treiss and Chlan had wanted to remain on Andor. Eventually, Deraan had been able to persuade them that he had all the medical knowledge necessary to ensure they had healthy children.

The sound of laughter made her look up from her work. Beside her, Lieutenant Maris Fairclough, Sh'rain's assistant chief, did the same. The Andorian woman still wasn't used to that sound, although she was trying to adjust. To her, laughter was a sign of simplicity. To the humans laughing, it was a sign of joy and entertainment. Smiling for reasons other than manipulation was slowly becoming easier for Sh'rain, and had always come easily to Deraan somehow. They both still had to check themselves at home, however. Treiss and Chlan had been made uneasy more than once by a smile flashed their way.

The laughter died down and Sh'rain and Fairclough returned to their work. Sh'rain liked her assistant chief, who was a dark skinned, dark eyed, serious woman. Her natural reserve made it easy for the Andorian to work with the human, but Sh'rain noticed that other human engineers found Fairclough standoffish. This didn't concern the Andorian either: Starfleet officers had to learn to work with superiors who may not be to their liking.

"I think if we divert power from the antimatter containment field, we should be able to maintain the medical containment field without fluctuation," Fairclough said.

"I don't want to risk any weakness in the warp reactor," Sh'rain replied. "I want us to be able to get out of there fast if we need to. I'll check with the captain and see if she'll let us reroute some of the power from the secondary environmental and life support systems."

Fairclough nodded.

"That will give us the power we need," she agreed. "But we have a problem. Those instruments have been buried for a century. If they don't work, we'll need someone inside the containment field to reactivate them manually."

"I know", Sh'rain replied. She'd been thinking about that for awhile now. "We can't send someone in a containment suit. The virus got into the away team's oxygen tanks."

Fairclough nodded, her expression dark. She was, Sh'rain had noticed, a deliberate thinker. At first, it had seemed to the Andorian that the human didn't have the engineering instinct so many others had, but that impression had been wrong. Fairclough could act quickly and accurately when needed. And it didn't take her long to give weighty consideration to a problem.

She proved that again by saying:

"The EMH."

Sh'rain blinked.

"Good idea," she replied. "Although we'd have to ensure that his program doesn't become infected."

"We can run a decontamination filter through the holo-imagers. But this virus didn't attack any of our systems."

"I know. I doubt it was designed to damage technology, but we don't know much about it. I'll make sure Jon'len or el Naser run tests on this damn thing, to make sure it only targets biological victims."

Fairclough nodded.

"Computer, ETA to the planet," Sh'rain said, without looking up from her work.

"Four hours, forty-one minutes," the computer replied in the bland female voice that had become part of Sh'rain's life so long ago.

"Good," the Andorian said, almost under her breath. "Take over here, make sure we get the containment field up to spec. I'm going to go talk to the captain about diverting power and to whichever doctor is available about the virus' capabilities and the EMH. I hope sickbay can spare it."

Fairclough nodded and Sh'rain left, grateful for her second's competence. Her life and her job were so much easier with Fairclough's skill.

* * *

Lieutenant Commander Zimna Dein had divided all of his on-duty security officers into groups of two and sent them in search of Lieutenant T'Sarak. He was heading one of the small teams, crawling through a Jefferies tube, pushing his phaser rifle with his right hand, ignoring the ache in his knees and palms as he shuffled across the tube's grated surface. He wondered why Jefferies had designed these things to be so damn uncomfortable. He kept his complaints to himself and his deputy didn't say anything, either. Dein didn't tolerate moaning while on duty, as tempting as it was even to him sometimes.

Vulcans. You could keep them. Dein supposed this was an unenlightened thought, but right now, he was less than impressed with Lieutenant T'Sarak, despite her now proven ability to be very good at disguising her whereabouts. Under any other circumstances, the security chief would have been struck by the science officer's talent for concealment.

He took a deep breath as he crawled forward, calming himself down. His impatience wasn't entirely his own; part of it came from Dein's previous host, a man named Karas. It was unfortunate for Zimna that he realized how much he disliked Karas only after he'd been joined to the Dein symbiont. As far as Zimna was concerned, Karas had been an arrogant, irresponsible womanizer. He'd also been a Trill diplomat, and had gotten himself killed at Wolf 359 by refusing to follow a captain's orders. His frivolity did not match well with Zimna's sense of decorum.

"Sir," the ensign behind him, a human named Tyrrell, whispered. "I'm picking up a very faint life sign two sections ahead."

"Vulcan?" Dein asked softly.

"Can't tell," Tyrrell replied.

"Keep trying," the chief said.

"Yes, sir," the human answered. Tyrrell had the difficult task of shuffling along with a tricorder while on his hands and knees, but was performing admirably. He was one of Dein's best officers.

"There's a sixty percent chance it's Vulcan," Tyrrell said after a moment. "Section Gee, subsection twelve."

"Let's go. Stay sharp."

Tracking a Vulcan made him nervous. Even as a joined Trill, his strength and agility wasn't going to be a match for T'Sarak. Reasoning with her was still a possibility; after all, she was a Vulcan. He hoped that she hadn't been unbalanced enough to stop listening.

The two of them scrambled from a hatch into an access area, in which they could both stand. A ladder joining all the decks rose from below, heading upward. Dein glanced up and saw T'Sarak sitting above them, legs dangling from the ladder's passageway, a phaser rifle trained on him.

"Commander Dein," she said in a bland, Vulcan voice. "I suggest you put down your weapon."

"You don't want to hurt us, Lieutenant," he replied.

"No," she agreed. "I don't. But I will, if I need to."

"You don't need to," Dein said, keeping his voice measured. "You just need to come back to sickbay with us."

"I can't do that," she replied, her voice still level.

"Why not?"

"I will not be Turan's mate," she answered forthrightly.

"No one says you have to be," Dein replied, wondering where she'd come up with that.

"He is experiencing pon farr. So am I. It is logical that the two of us should mate in order to alleviate our conditions."

"That is logical," Dein agreed, nodding. "So why not do it?"

"I do not wish to."

"I thought Vulcans don't have desires."

"Right now, I do," T'Sarak said, raising her rifle a bit. Dein didn't miss the fact that she was aiming at his stomach. At the symbiont. "Put down your weapon."

Slowly, he set the rifle down, monitoring for Tyrrell to do the same.

"Lieutenant, the doctors can keep your sedated."

"That is illogical," she replied. "With the opportunity to meditate without distractions, I can overcome the pon farr on my own."

"And Turan?"

"Will have to deal with his situation in whatever way he sees fit. I have a mate selected back on Vulcan, Commander. It is my choice to marry him. This pon farr is not natural. I am too young to have children. It would be dangerous."

"I'm sure the doctors can ensure you don't get pregnant," Dein replied.

"Nonetheless, mating with Turan would necessitate that he become my mate. I will not do this."

"Then let us get you somewhere safe," Dein said. "We can get you back to your quarters and post a guard. No one will interrupt your meditation."

"It is best that no one knows where I am," she replied in a neutral voice. "I am sorry."

Dein felt the phaser blast hit him in the chest and had a split second to recognize it had been set to stun and that she had not hit the symbiont. He heard the grunt beside him that told him that Tyrrell had been hit, then blackness collapsed in on him.

* * *

Shannon Tanner sat up with a deep, rasping gasp. Before she had time to process anything, there was a face in her vision and a hand.

"How many fingers?" a voice demanded.

"Four," she replied, almost automatically.

"Right, now look at my eyes. Look, Shannon. Here."

Two of the fingers pointed to a pair of deep brown eyes and Tanner obediently looked.

"What's my name?" the voice demanded.

"Fahad el Naser."

"What ship are you on?"

"The _Blessing Way_."

"What's your name?"

"Shannon Elizabeth Tanner."

"Good. Where are you?"

"Sickbay."

El Naser nodded and Tanner felt relief draining through her, replacing the oncoming panic. She sagged slightly and el Naser grabbed her shoulders to keep her from slumping back onto the bed. She realized now what his barrage of questions had done. It had yanked her past the panic of waking up from paralysis.

"I'm all right," she assured him. He nodded and Tanner twisted, looking behind her. Hareen Jaim was accepting a cup of tea from Doctor Deraan, who was watching her with concern. Tanner shook her head. She must have been unconscious or asleep when they revived her, because she had no memory of being treated.

"What did you give me?" she asked, mind returning suddenly to the present.

"We developed a vaccine capable of suppressing the virus. For the time being, its still in your system, but it's inactive. It should stay that way unless something triggers it, but we're still working on eradicating it."

Tanner nodded, raking a hand through her hair. El Naser gave her a concerned look and she saw the warmth in his eyes. Tanner smiled, putting a hand on his arm for a moment.

"You all right, Hareen?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder at her ensign.

"Yes, sir," the Bolian replied.

"What about Turan?" Tanner asked, turning back to el Naser. "And T'Sarak?"

"We're keeping Turan sedated until we can bring his hormonal levels back down to normal. Commander Dein and Ensign Tyrrell found T'Sarak but she shot them before they could get her back here."

Tanner's eyebrows shot up, her eyes widening.

"T'Sarak shot them?!" she demanded.

El Naser held up his hands.

"Stunned them. They're fine. I've released them both already. Dein was annoyed more than injured. I've asked the captain to call off the search for T'Sarak."

"Why?" Tanner asked, stunned.

"Dein said she wanted a place to meditate where no one could find her. I don't think she's a danger to anyone else unless she's being pursued."

"Yes, but she's in danger herself!"

"I know. This isn't a natural pon farr. But we can't help T'Sarak if she's feeling irrational and threatened and is going to shoot whoever comes near her. It won't get us anywhere, or her. And we're arriving at the planet in two hours."

Tanner nodded, trying to shake away the numb shock she was feeling. El Naser dropped his voice and kept speaking.

"I was hoping you could contact her," he said.

"I can't," Tanner replied in a low voice. "She's blocked me out."

Grimacing, the doctor nodded.

"All right. We're going to need your help figuring out what went on down there," he continued. "It's probably the best way you can help T'Sarak right now."

Tanner nodded once, curtly. She took a deep breath, putting aside her worry and fear as she had been taught to do on the _T'Kail_, and focused her mind on what lay at hand. A hundred years ago, a group of innocent Starfleet officers had been infected and left to die on an unknown planet. Now she and part of her team had the virus. She owed her to herself and her officers to figure out why, and to those people who had died stranded or abandoned.

Unexpectedly, el Naser took her hand and squeezed it once, warmly. Tanner looked up at him quickly and smiled, squeezing back.

"I need to run some scans," el Naser said, returning to his professional self. He stepped back, picking up a tricorder and turning back to her. Tanner sat still, feeling like she was under a microscope, which she always felt when she was being examined. El Naser was frowning slightly, but she could tell from the sense of his mind that he wasn't overly concerned with what he was seeing.

"Good," he said after a minute, flipping the tricorder shut. Tanner turned to glance back at Jaim, who was getting the same treatment from Deraan. Her ensign looked up and nodded at her with cool Bolian eyes. Tanner was relieved that Jaim was taking it so well; she could remember the familiar taste of panic when she had first regained consciousness while paralyzed. Suddenly, she wondered if the virus could reassert itself if the doctors didn't find a cure.

"Can I get up?" Tanner asked.

"Carefully," el Naser replied. "You haven't been using your body for almost two days."

"All right," Tanner agreed and helped her down. She walked over to Jaim and asked the other woman how she was feeling. She herself felt weak and sore, and wished she had some time to stretch properly and do one of the meditations she had been taught on the _T'Kail_.

"I've been worse," Jaim replied drily, with a slight smile twisting her lips.

Tanner clapped Jaim lightly on the shoulder, giving her a smile as her well.

"Can you fill us in?" she asked, turning back to the doctors.

"I think Sh'rain would be the best person for that," Deraan replied.

"And I think we need to let the captain know you're both awake," el Naser said, tapping his combadge.

A few minutes later, Yusumi and Vanek were in sickbay, the captain grilling el Naser and Deraan about the health of their patients. Tanner swallowed her impatience at the situation; she wasn't used to doctors reporting on her health. The last time she had been in a doctor's care for any length of time was after returning to the Alpha Quadrant. She had been in Bashir's infirmary with serious injuries from the attack on the _T'Kail_. It was then that she had learned of the genetic anomaly that set her apart from the rest of humanity.

Tanner kept her peace as el Naser and Deraan filled the captain and first officer in on the status of their patients. Then Yusumi filled the two senior officers in on the progress made by the engineers, who had established a containment field to hold the instruments they could transport from the surface and the idea of using the EMH to enter the field and reactivate the tricorders. Tanner listened attentively, but felt an itch to return to the surface. There were answers there, too, answers that couldn't be beamed up to the safety of the _Blessing Way_. She wondered at herself, at the desire to leave the security of her ship given what had just happened to her. But Tanner had gotten used to listening to her instincts, especially in the last year.

"We'll be arriving in just under two hours," Yusumi finished, nodding at Tanner. "I want the two of you to rest until then."

"Can we return to our quarters?" Tanner asked.

The captain glanced at el Naser, who nodded and spread his hands.

"I think that would be the best for both of them right now," he agreed. "But I want to keep a lock on your vital signs. If either of you feel unwell, I want you to contact us right away."

"All right," Jaim said and Tanner nodded. Both women let themselves be affixed with small cortical monitors on the backs of their necks. The captain escorted Tanner back to her quarters, Vanek went with Jaim. On the way, Yusumi enquired as to the science officer's health and Tanner was up front, admitting she was shaken and sore, but that she expected she would be fine. She was left with an admonishment to rest and she agreed, only privately adding that she would do so after doing one other thing.

* * *

Tanner kept track of Yusumi's mind until she was satisfied that the captain was well away, then scanned quickly for other people nearby. There was no one close enough to her, so she left her combadge in her quarters and slipped into the nearest Jefferies tube, pulling the hatch securely shut behind her. She went slowly, to accommodate the demands of her body, and it took her ten minutes of crawling and climbing up ladders until she found T'Sarak.

The Vulcan didn't seem surprised to see her. Tanner crouched across the small circular landing on which T'Sarak was sitting. The Vulcan gave her a penetrating stare, then arched an eyebrow.

"You are anxious and upset," T'Sarak noted in a calm, measured voice. "You should meditate."

"I should," Tanner agreed. "And I am anxious and upset, T'Sarak. But I'm not a Vulcan. Sometimes, I need to feel my emotions."

The barest flashes of surprise crossed the Vulcan's face and Tanner nodded.

"It's not always so easy to remember," the human confirmed.

"It is not always easy to understand," T'Sarak amended.

Tanner nodded again. She gazed steadily at her friend and could almost feel the depths of generations stretching out from T'Sarak, all those Vulcans who had mastered their emotions, who had embraced logic. Inside of herself, she could feel the history of her human ancestors like a comet's tail, streaming out behind her. The sensation threatened to become unbearable and Tanner shut her mind carefully, the weight of ancestry lessening. She thought of her brother, Kevin, suddenly, the only family member she had told so far about her genetic anomaly. The only one she could trust with the knowledge when it had still be raw and new. After the _Blessing Way_ had left space dock, Kevin had made the long journey from Jupiter Station to Deep Space Nine, ostensibly to visit Julian Bashir, but really to find out about his own genetic makeup. He had sent her a single line letter over subspace upon his return, which read only: "J says yes."

She had the anomaly in common with one other person, at least. But she had no idea if Kevin would choose the path of meditation training that had triggered her anomaly, or if he would live with it dormant, to keep a normal human life. She was torn between which choice she hoped he'd make.

"T'Sarak, you need to be treated. I need my assistant chief science officer."

"And you will have me back," T'Sarak promised. "But the doctors cannot treat me. It is better that I do this for myself."

Tanner nodded.

"If you need any help, I want you to contact me."

"Of course I will," T'Sarak replied.

Tanner sighed inwardly. This hadn't gone the way she wanted, but then again, she hadn't been overly eager to stay in sickbay, either. She gave her friend a nod and swung herself down the ladder again, concentrating on her movements. She left T'Sarak behind and returned to her quarters where she took a page from her Vulcan friend's book and settled into a meditation. Whatever they were about to face, she wanted to do so on even mental ground.

After the short meditation, she went to bed, grateful to be back in her own quarters, able to move, not paralyzed and helpless in sickbay. Tanner fell asleep quickly, almost as soon as she'd ordered the computer to turn the lights off. She was still not used to maintaining her mental shields while asleep, and they dissolved after a few minutes. She was, however, used to the minds on the ship, and bypassed them without any difficulty, even Lieutenant Dein, a joined Trill. On Deep Space Nine, T'Sarak had shielded her from Jadzia Dax, but the first experience Tanner had had with a joined Trill after that had been unsettling, to say the least. Now, the jumble of images and emotions from Dein's mind barely registered. There was nothing new for her here, until the fear and panic emanating from the planet took hold.

Unaware of it, Tanner gasped, arching her back in her sleep, trying to fight her way back to consciousness and control. The horror overwhelmed her, grasping her greedily, as if finally finding a sympathetic soul to carry it. Tanner tried to grapple with the influx of memories from so many minds, all of them terrified, all of them desperately seeking escape. They weren't even alive anymore, only echoes of what the people on the planet had felt, but those echoes had not diminished. It was as if the terror had been infused into the atmosphere along with the pathogen that had already infected the commander. Tanner thrashed, trying to pull herself away. Instinctively, she reached for help, unable to find T'Sarak's mind, which she knew best. She could not find Julian Bashir, either, her old friend and the doctor who had identified her genetic anomaly. Left in the dark without two of her closest friends, Tanner reached for the mind she had most recently been in contact with. T'Sarak had taught her finesse, but there was none there when she snagged at el Naser.

"_Fahad!"_ she screamed mentally, barely aware that she'd sent him reeling physically. _"Help me!"_

* * *

El Naser didn't even pause to explain, barely paused to regain his footing. Tanner's mind hammered at his, making it hard to focus and to breathe properly. He grabbed a med kit and was running out the doors of his sickbay almost before Deraan had a chance to look up from their work. He heard the Andorian call something after him but ignored it, pounding through the corridors, dodging crew members like they were obstructions in an obstacle course. The turbolift slowed him down, giving him enough time to fumble in the med kit for a neural inhibitor and snap it onto the base of his skull. Immediately, Tanner's mental assault stopped, leaving him in sudden, crushing silence. El Naser took a deep breath and let it out as the turbolift doors hissed open. For a split second, he wondered if he was crazy being interested in a telepathic woman. He pushed the thought aside, running to Tanner's quarters and had the computer override the locks to admit him.

He found her in her bed, struggling against something. Without bothering to see if she was awake, he put a neural inhibitor on her as well, then injected her with a stimulant. For a moment, Tanner was still, then she was blinking herself away, her dark brown eyes hazy and confused. She focused on him, frowning slightly, as if she wasn't certain who he was. Then she reached up to touch the neural inhibitor. El Naser grabbed her wrist the moment he spotted her intentions.

"No," he said. "Leave it there."

"I can't hear anything," she said. "In my head."

"Good. This telepathic thing is creeping me out."

"_You're_ telling _me_?" she asked, shaking her head slowly, then sitting up carefully. Tanner pushed her dark brown hair from her face, looking around the room.

"Tell me what you were hearing that made you call for me so vehemently."

"I called you?" she asked.

"In a manner of speaking," he replied. "I don't think anyone's ever screamed inside my head before."

Tanner blinked at him, then seemed to come back to herself fully.

"I'm sorry," she said and he could tell it was an automatic apology. He wondered how many times she'd apologized for her telepathic abilities and what it must feel like.

"Don't be," he insisted so firmly she looked at him in surprise. "It's better me than someone who didn't know, and you needed to get loose from whatever had you. What was it, anyway?"

Tanner sat forward, shoulders slumping slightly, then she straightened again.

"Memories from the people on the planet. They– They were in so much fear, Fahad, that it's stayed there for a hundred years. Whatever killed them terrified them."

He raised his eyebrows.

"I didn't know your telepathic range extended so far."

"I don't think it does," she replied, shaking her head. "I think they reached me."

"How?"

"I don't know," Tanner admitted. "I'm new to this. But if their emotions were able to hang on this long, then why not be able to find the first vulnerable mind?"

"You make it sound like their emotions are sentient," el Naser said.

"No, not that," Tanner replied, shaking her head again. "A Betazoid explained to me once that a large number of people all feeling the same thing can leave an impression on a place. It's called emotional resonance. It's probably a very good thing we don't have any Betazoids on board."

El Naser nodded slowly.

"Can I take this off now?" Tanner asked, touching the neural inhibitor on her neck. "I promise, you can take yours off. I've got my shields back in place."

El Naser touched the inhibitor on his neck, having forgotten it was there. He switched it off, then detached it, putting it back in the med kit.

"I'd rather you wore yours until this is over."

"I wouldn't," Tanner said bluntly. "This doesn't happen to me anymore when I'm awake. And I might be able to use my telepathy to help us figure something out down there. Those people died and we need to know why. They were Starfleet. We need to use whatever resources we have. Somebody killed them, and it can't go unpunished."

El Naser sighed, but nodded. Tanner turned her head slightly and he removed the neural inhibitor, watching her for some sign of distress. He saw none.

"I think it might be a good idea if we told Captain Yusumi," he said, fully expecting an argument, surprised when he got a resigned nod.

"I knew I'd have to some day," she admitted. Then she gave him a quizzical look.

"What?" he asked.

"I'm still human," she said.

"I know," el Naser replied.

"It will take some time to get used to," Tanner told him. "But I did, and so did Julian, and so did my brother Kevin."

El Naser couldn't think of anything to say, but Tanner removed the necessity of replying. She leaned forward quickly, touching his jaw with her fingertips, and kissed him, quickly and softly on the lips. He blinked in surprised, but kissed back.

"I could get used to that, too," he said when she'd pulled back.

"You should have said something to me sooner," she replied with a slight smile.

"You could have read my mind," he pointed out.

"I make a point of not invading anyone's mental privacy unless I really have to," she replied simply. "I don't always want to be sharing someone else's thoughts anymore than they want me to be in there with them. I am still human," she said again. "I still need to relate to people as a human."

"Good to know," el Naser said and kissed her again, this time a bit longer. He felt Tanner smiling into the kiss as she returned it.

"Now, I want to get you back to sickbay and make sure you have no damage from that– whatever it was. And the captain wants you and Jaim back on this project. We have a meeting with engineering in half an hour. I think you might want to talk to Yusumi before that."


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's note:** oh, it's about time isn't it? Sorry everyone.

* * *

Tanner turned down el Naser's offer to accompany her to see the captain. It was something she wanted to do alone.

She made it to the turbolift and was about to step inside when she realized it wasn't something she wanted to do at all. Tanner hesitated, one hand on the open door of the turbolift, and considered her position. She had a duty to her captain and to Starfleet, but that duty was to do her job, to uphold the principles of the Federation. Her father had reminded her, in his blunt way, before she'd left Earth, that she had a duty to herself in personal matters and that she needed to know how to tell the difference.

Tanner paused for a long moment, then shook her head, once, a short motion. Her brain was not a matter of Starfleet duty.

She turned around and the turbolift doors hissed shut behind her. Tanner squared her shoulders, ignoring the idea of what el Naser would say if he found out she hadn't told Yusumi. But this was her choice, and he didn't have to know, either. She shook her head and walked away, heading toward Hareen Jaim's quarters. The ensign admitted her immediately, and Tanner thought the Bolian woman looked better than she had in sickbay. She seemed rested, and more composed.

"Commander," Jaim greeted.

"Hello, Hareen. How are you?"

The Bolian gave a half smile and shrugged one shoulder.

"I have been better," she replied.

"I know the feeling," Tanner replied, sitting down at Jaim's gesture to do so. "But are you well enough to return to this project?"

Jaim, who had sat down opposite her, looked surprised, but pleased, at the prospect.

"I didn't think Captain Yusumi would want us back on duty so quickly," she said.

"Apparently, she does. Probably under strict medical supervision, but you and I are the only ones who were down there who are currently capable of working. If you don't want to do this, tell me now, and the captain will just have to deal with it."

Jaim shook her head.

"I'll be fine, sir," she assured her superior officer. "What would I do otherwise? Sit around here and wonder what's going on? I want to know what happened to those people. Whatever it was nearly killed us."

_Still could_, Tanner thought inadvertently. Outwardly, she nodded, impressed by her ensign's resilience. When Jaim had joined the crew, she had been fresh out of the academy, but she'd never seemed as inexperienced as most ensigns were, as Tanner was sure she herself had once been.

"Good," Tanner said. "I could use you. Are you ready to get back to work now? Because we have to meet in engineering in ten minutes."

"I am," Jaim replied, pushing herself to her feet. Tanner stood and joined the ensign, leaving Jaim's quarters and heading for the engine room.

"I'm a doctor, not an engineer!" the EMH protested on the small engineering screen currently linked to sickbay. Tanner stood in engineering with Yusumi, Vanek, Sh'rain, Fairclough, Jaim and Ensign Soran, one of her science officers.

"Consider that your duties now include Emergency Engineering Hologram," Yusumi said. "There is no one else who can enter the containment field without risk of being infected."

The EMH looked like it was about to protest, but didn't.

"The virus is designed only to attack biological matter, Doctor," Sh'rain assured the hologram. "You will be in no danger."

"I won't have the slightest idea of what to do," the EMH pointed out.

"Fairclough and I will be assisting you," Sh'rain told it, to which it nodded, looking resigned.

Yusumi tapped her combadge.

"Yusumi to the bridge."

"This is Dein, go ahead, Captain," came the voice of the security chief.

"What's our status, Commander?"

"We're just entering orbit of the planet," the Trill replied. "We're scanning the area where Commander Tanner's team found the equipment."

"When you find it, beam it directly to the containment field we've established in engineering."

"Understood," Dein replied.

"Computer, activate the engineering holoemitters and transfer the EMH from sickbay to engineering," Yusumi said. The computer beeped an acknowledgment and the EMH appeared a moment later, looking somewhat startled by its sudden change in venue.

"You could at least warn me!" it snapped.

Yusumi held up one hand toward it, giving her head a shake. Tanner wondered who in Starfleet had thought it was a good idea to accept a medical hologram based on Doctor Zimmerman's personality. She'd met him once and found him prickly, to say the least. Kevin, who worked on Jupiter Station as a medical engineer, said he got along with the holographic engineer, but acknowledged that Zimmerman didn't exactly have a comforting bedside manner.

The idea to install holographic emitters in engineering had been a new one, and all of the Stellar class ships had been equipped with them. Upon reflection, Tanner wondered why it hadn't been done to begin with; engineering was a prime site for an accident, and a hologram could get in with far less risk than a living person.

"We're ready to transport," Dein's voice came back over the com.

"Good. Go ahead," Yusumi said. The high pitched whine and blue light deposited almost two dozen instruments into the containment field erected by the engineers. Most of the tricorders and communicators looked worse than the one Tanner had seen. They were covered in dirt and sand, their silver highlights and black surfaces scuffed and deeply scratched. Tanner was willing to bet most of them wouldn't work.

"We'll have to clean them somehow," she said.

"Anyone have a feather duster for me?" the EMH asked sharply.

Sh'rain raised her eyebrows at the hologram and Fairclough closed her eyes momentarily.

"We'll send a high powered sonic wave through the containment field," Sh'rain said, her nimble Andorian fingers dancing over the controls. "That should take care of the worst of it."

A high pitched whine that quickly dissolved into silence swept through the field. The grit and dust blasted off the artifacts, and was quickly sucked up by the short lived vacuum Sh'rain had initiated.

"That should do it," the chief engineer said.

"Doctor," the captain said, gesturing for the EMH to enter the containment field. With a scowl, he did so.

"Look through them, Doctor," Sh'rain said. "We need to determine which are most likely to be repairable."

"How will I know that?" the hologram enquired.

"Show them to me," the engineer replied.

One by one, the EMH picked up the instruments and held them up for inspection by the engineers. Two piles accumulated on the table in front of the hologram, the one with salvageable instruments much smaller than the other.

"Good," Sh'rain said. She tapped her combadge. "Sh'rain to Dein."

"Go ahead, Commander."

"Lock onto the larger pile of instruments and beam them to the stasis unit we've set up in sickbay."

"Understood."

A moment later, all but five of the century-old instruments had vanished.

"Let's get started," Sh'rain said.

"Keep us informed, Commander," Yusumi said and gestured to Vanek. "Tanner, Jaim, stay here and do what you can to help."

The science officers nodded and the captain and commander left. Everyone spread out a bit in the extra space.

"What should I do?" the EMH asked.

"Spread them out, let us have a good look at them."

It complied and the two engineers scrutinized the five instruments.

"The second one on the right," Sh'rain said. "Open the front panel and let's see if the power source is still intact."

The hologram pried off the front panel and held it up.

"Looks all right," Sh'rain said, nodding. "Check the others."

The EMH checked the remaining instruments with instructions from Sh'rain and Fairclough. One of the tricorders appeared to be completely shot inside, but the other four seemed salvageable, at least to the engineers.

"Step outside of the field for a moment, Doctor," Fairclough said. "We're going to send a directed energy burst to those four and see if we can jump start them."

"Very well," the EMH said, slipping from the containment field. Fairclough saw Tanner's surprise and said: "Don't worry. The doctors deduced that it's biological and can't be carried or transmitted by the EMH. And, just in case, we designed the field with the same suppressing agent the doctors used in the environmental system to immunize all of us."

Tanner nodded and cast a glance at Jaim, who was watching the whole thing with interest. The EMH stood near Jaim, who nodded to it, and then turned her attention back to the confinement field. Tanner did the same. There was a quiet hum, then a shot burst of energy that flared gold along the limits of the field, causing the force field to flash blue. Sh'rain let the burst fade, evaluated something on her console, and then sent in another burst.

"There we go," she said, nodding and gesturing to the doctor. "Back inside."

The EMH scowled slightly and stepped back into the containment field.

"Take the second one on the right again," Fairclough said. "See if it works."

"How does a century-old tricorder work?" the EMH asked.

"Turn the middle dial on the top half way," Fairclough replied. "Then open the silver panel upward."

"Ah," the EMH replied after following her instructions and getting a positive result. "Now what?"

"You should be able to see if there's any information in there by hitting the display button, the one on the bottom right."

The EMH did as told and nodded.

"There's something in here,"it said. "I think it's an audio recording."

"Hit the button above the one you just hit, and turn the leftmost dial on top."

The doctor did so and the engine room was filled with the sound of a garbled voice interspersed with static.

"I'm trying to clean it up," Fairclough said. Tanner watched, wondering why she and Jaim were even here– there wasn't much they could do at the moment but witness this. Maybe, she considered, thinking of the people who had died down there, that was enough for now.

"…_Vulcans have been erratic…"_ the voice, somewhat clearer, said, before it was lost to static again. Fairclough and Sh'rain were working quickly, trying to eliminate the interference from the recording. _"… Abandoned down here. Our doctors are trying, but James is dead… … has appeared to recover, but still has the virus, we don't know… he'll live. … Communications have been knocked out… … trying, but no luck… they want us dead."_

Tanner uncrossed her arms, feeling the dead weight of shock in her stomach. Fairclough had stopped working as soon as she'd heard the second sentence, simply staring blankly at the old tricorder. Jaim appeared equally shocked and confused; Sh'rain was the only one still working.

"Lieutenant Fairclough?" Tanner asked, trying to keep the suspicion out of her voice. Fairclough looked up at her quickly, confusion in her features, and Tanner wondered if her impression that the other woman knew something was wrong. For a moment, the shock on the engineer's face had looked more like the shock of finding out she'd been right about something and less like she was stunned at the words coming from the tricorder.

"It's–" the engineer started, but was interrupted by Deraan's voice over the comm.

"Deraan to Tanner."

Tanner tapped her badge, keeping her eyes locked on the engineer's a moment longer, then looked up toward the ceiling, not really seeing it.

"Tanner here."

"Is Ensign Jaim with you, Commander?" Deraan asked.

"Yes, she is."

"I need both of you to come down to sickbay. We've found a cure for the virus. You need it immediately."

Tanner felt a sharp relief and nodded.

"We're on our way," she said, then tapped her communicator off. She glanced at Sh'rain, who nodded, then turned and beckoned Jaim to join her. As they were leaving engineering, Tanner let her mental walls slide just enough to focus on Fairclough and felt the disappointment of being right.

The engineer _did_ know something.

* * *

By the time they arrived at sickbay, Lieutenant Turan was being treated and looked far better than he had. He was awake and his features were composed again. Looking at him, Tanner had a difficult time believing this was the same man who had become irrational only the day before.

Both doctors, she noticed, looked haggard and tired. She wondered how long they'd been on duty. El Naser waved her over and Tanner took a seat on an exam bed. Deraan was finishing with Turan and told Jaim to take a bed as well.

"This might make you dizzy, it's a big dose," El Naser said. "But we can't spread it out; it wouldn't be effective."

"All right," Tanner agreed. El Naser injected her and she frowned slightly at the sensation. She had never liked the feeling of anything spreading into her blood vessels. But the forewarned dizziness did not come and Tanner felt no other ill effects, either. In fact, it was difficult for her to tell that anything was happening, since she had felt fine after being given the vaccine.

"Now, I need to know where T'Sarak is, so I can treat her," el Naser said.

Tanner shook her head.

"You should let me talk to her–"

"No, you need to get back to _your_ job," the doctor insisted. "Don't argue with me, because you can pull rank, but I'm still the chief medical officer and she's my responsibility right now, not yours."

Tanner sighed, but relented, telling el Naser where she'd last seen the errant Vulcan. He nodded, squeezed her hand affectionately, then turned to Deraan and told him where he was going. The other doctor nodded distractedly and Tanner knew then how tired Deraan really was. Andorians usually dealt well with fatigue and had a high mental acuity and control, even under stress. She watched el Naser pack a medkit and leave, then turned back to Jaim, who was just receiving her injection.

"I'd like the two of you to wait here for twenty minutes," Deraan said, glancing over his shoulder at Tanner. She nodded, agreeing for herself and her officers. "I want to keep an eye out for adverse effects. I want Turan to stay here overnight for observation."

"Of course," Tanner agreed, sitting down beside Jaim once Deraan was finished. "How are you feeling, Hareem?"

"Fine so far," the ensign replied and Tanner cast a questioning look at Turan.

"I am well, thank you," the Vulcan replied. Tanner nodded again and settled in for the wait.

* * *

Fairclough drew a deep, silent breath and returned her concentration to her work, but it was difficult. At least the EMH was doing most of the work; it was up to the engineers to give him direction, but Sh'rain was the superior officer and Fairclough could easily defer to her without arousing suspicion.

_Damn! _What did the science officer know? Did she even know anything at all, or had something shown on Fairclough's face that an astute human would have caught? She wished she knew. She had pored over the records of each of the seventy-four other officers on the ship, and the handful of civilians just in case, and had come up with nothing suspicious. Friends of her with greater security clearance had run the names of everyone on board through better screening and come up empty handed. Not that it necessarily meant anything, Fairclough knew. There were ways of covering tracks even the best spies couldn't break. It was frustrating knowing that, and she wondered who else had thought that the _Blessing Way_ might run across this planet. She wished she'd had more information on it before they'd sent anyone to the surface, but all the documentation she'd been given – which was all there was – was horribly vague. The location hadn't been certain, the cause of the destruction had been guess work and had been wrong.

Fairclough resisted the urge to pound a fist on the console in front of her.

"There," the EMH said, putting down the communicator. "Try now."

Fairclough nodded; she had long ago learned to concentrate on a conversation and a separate train of thought. She punched in some commands and waited, unconsciously holding her breath, waiting for some explanation as to what had happened down there.

The communicator sparked and the EMH jerked backwards, holding its hands up as if to ward off any physical damage. Sh'rain shook her head slightly, frowning, and this time, Fairclough did pound the console in front of her, once, with her fist. Sh'rain and the EMH both looked at her, surprised, and the human shook her head.

"Sorry," she muttered. "This is very frustrating."

"I know," Sh'rain replied. She sighed, then turned pensive for a moment, her antennae twitching slightly as she thought. "That's the second one that's shorted out on us and we have one that's too garbled to make out, and one that can't hold a charge for more than a minute."

Fairclough nodded glumly. The only information they'd gleaned was from the first communicator, and that was so fragmented it made little sense. The garbled message on the tricorder had only provided them with half of a name: Brell, which Fairclough couldn't even confidently assign to a particular race.

"Now what?" she asked.

"I think we call the captain," Sh'rain replied in an even voice. "We have to go back to the surface."

* * *

Tanner sat with the other senior officers in the briefing room, all of whom looked exhausted except for Vanek and Aleshma. Tanner envied the Vulcan and Andorian stamina, wishing she herself had it. Without bothering to read minds, she could tell the other humans at the table felt the same.

"…_Vulcans have been erratic…Abandoned down here. Our doctors are trying, but James is dead… … has appeared to recover, but still has the virus, we don't know… he'll live. … Communications have been knocked out… … trying, but no luck… they want us dead."_

"That's all we have," Sh'rain said, shutting off the fragmented recording. It was the second time Tanner had heard it, and it provided no more insight than it had the first time. "The rest of the instruments were too badly damaged to provide us with any information, except the name Brell. I have Ensigns Kommi and Yeshti running that name through the Federation database, but there's no guarantee will find anything. Captain," the engineer said, turning to Yusumi, "I think we need to go back to the surface."

Tanner was startled but Yusumi did not look in the least bit surprised.

"I thought you'd say that," the captain admitted, shaking her head once, slightly. "I don't like it. What do you think we'll find there?"

Sh'rain shook her head as well.

"I don't know. Perhaps nothing. But we're not getting anywhere with the instruments we transported to the ship. There might be something down there that we're missing."

"And there may not be," el Naser pointed out. "Even when we neutralize the virus in the planet's atmosphere, it will still be a risk going down there."

"How much of one?" Fairclough asked. "We've all been vaccinated and the four infected people have been cured. With the virus neutralized, we should have almost no risk of getting infected. And you do have a cure if one of us should catch this thing."

"She's right," Tanner agreed and el Naser gave her a tired look. "We might find nothing down there, that's true, but we have to try. Captain, someone left these people for dead on this planet. They wanted them to die. These were Federation citizens. We owe it to them and their families to at least try. The risk should be minimal, and we can wear protective suits."

Yusumi arched a dark brow.

"I know how much it cost you to say that, Commander," she commented, then pursed her lips, looking displeased. "Doctor, I understand your objections, but I agree with Fairclough and Tanner. We'll send a team down to see what we can find. Vanek, you'll lead it. Dein, Sh'rain, Fairclough, you'll join him. Tanner–" the captain paused, giving Tanner a questioning look.

"I'll go," Tanner said firmly. "My team found this. I'd like to see it through."

Yusumi nodded and shot el Naser a look that forestalled any objections.

"Good. Pick another science officer to go with you, preferably not Jaim."

"Sir, if I'm going–" Tanner started.

"No arguments, Shannon. You're much more experienced than Hareem is. She's done enough for the time being. Pick someone else."

"Yes, sir," Tanner conceded.

"Doctor, both you and Jon'len are now under strict orders to step down from duty and get at least six hours sleep. No, don't argue. I'll put the EMH and one of the nurses on duty and they can wake you if anything happens. You are both dead on your feet and I need my medical staff functioning. The rest of you, get ready. You have one hour until we beam you down."


	6. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** _fini!_

* * *

This time, Tanner was happy to be wearing the EV suit. Despite what she'd said to el Naser, she was feeling nervous. It was too easy to remember walking up paralyzed in sickbay, and the uncertainty afterwards, waiting for the doctors to find a cure. Although the engineering team had irradiated the planet's atmosphere with the virus' antigen, and she had been given the same treatment, Tanner felt some measure of security in wearing the suit. She tired not to think about how it hadn't protected her the last time she'd been on the surface. The EMH had assured them that there was nothing left in the atmosphere that was detrimental to the health of any of the away team members.

Tanner was also grateful for the EV suits environmental controls. The readings on her visor indicated that the temperature was above thirty degrees Celsius outside, but inside the suit, it was comfortable and cool.

The surface looked the same as it had before, desolate and still. There was no breeze, even the slightest one, and the trees and grasses that had grown up in the derelict settlement were unmoving. The lake's smooth surface was broken only here and there by the movement of small fish in the shallow waters near the edge, or by tiny insects alighting on its surface. Tanner could hear the environment around her, not just the com system in her suit, and there was almost no noise, either. A few birds twittered occasionally and some insects sang quietly, but the place had a feeling of utter loneliness, as if no sentient being had ever really broken its solitude.

Knowing this was not the case, Tanner kept her mental shields firmly in place. She had no desire to repeat the experience she'd had while sleeping. Part of her considered it was unfortunate that she had to keep herself so closed off, and that she had a sense of ethics, because she was growing more suspicious of Fairclough. She was certain the engineer was suspicious of her as well, and wished she could sift through the other woman's mind and find out what the lieutenant knew. Tanner wondered if Fairclough thought that she, Tanner, knew something. She was grateful that she didn't really, although they were here to solve this grizzly mystery.

Vanek gathered them together after they'd all materialized on the surface and divided them into teams of three. She was assigned to Dein's team, along with Sh'rain, and was grateful that she had not been paired with Fairclough. If the engineer did know something, Tanner wanted the opportunity to work without being scrutinized.

She had elected to bring Ensign Soran with her, mostly because he was Vulcan and, although he was an ensign, he was older than she was and more experienced than the one remaining science officer she could have chosen. Ensign Sharpor, her remaining officer, was a Bolean man, one year out of the academy and serving his first deep space mission. Prior to this, he had been stationed on Mars, working on a terraforming project. Ensign Soran had decades of scientific experience behind him, all in preparation for joining Starfleet.

"All right, this way," Dein said, gesturing with his phaser rifle toward the northern half of the forsaken settlement. Tanner and Sh'rain fell in behind them, stirring up insects which whined in protest as they passed. The grass stirred as they moved through it as well, and Tanner glanced around, seeing for the very first time how someone could consider settling this planet. But even now, it was so remote, so far from the Federation core and so close to Klingon territory. She wondered if that had unsettled the residents when they had arrived. Now, of course, a Federation citizen could feel secure in dealing with a Klingon, although perhaps slightly intimidated. Back then, there was nothing restraining any enmity.

"Strange place to settle," Dein said, echoing Tanner's thoughts. She nodded; he could see her out the side of his visor. Despite her early problems dealing with Trill minds, Tanner liked Dein. He had only had one previous host, whom she knew Zimna did not like. But Zimna himself was an uncomplicated man, brusque but confident, and very capable at his job. He had told her something about Karas, and Tanner had to agree that the former host had sounded like a dilettante.

"In here," Sh'rain said, ducking into an abandoned building whose roof was still partially intact. Dein went in ahead of Tanner and she followed, flicking on her flashlight and shining the strong beam into the shadows. Sh'rain had a good engineer's instinct; the room was lined with computer panels. Whether they would ever work again was another matter.

"Let's set up some lights," Sh'rain said. They had each been assigned one equipment case, complete with collapsable work lights, which they retrieved and set up.

"Where do you want lit up, Sh'rain?" Tanner asked, adjusting the light of her lamp and tilting the bulb down somewhat.

Sh'rain glanced around, then pointed to a console in the corner on her right.

"We'll try there," she said. "Your guess would be as good as mine. Dein, set up the portable generator."

"Right," the Trill said as Tanner helped Sh'rain readjust the lights to illuminate their workspace. Dein got the generator started and hooked it to the console, working under Sh'rain's careful instructors as the engineer examined the layout, familiarizing herself with it.

"I think we'll need to do some work on these relays," she said, kneeling down and pulling out a panel. Her pale eyebrows rose in surprise. "Not as bad as I thought. Shannon, help me out here."

Tanner crouched down, half crawling into the small space beneath the console and, following Sh'rain's instructions, began replacing destroyed or damaged isolinear chips with new ones, which Dein handed in. Sh'rain's team had replicated the new ones based on the designs from one hundred years ago, with some power improvements. Tanner hoped the improvements didn't turn out to be incompatible with the century-old technology.

"All right," Sh'rain said finally and she and Tanner shuffled out from their crawl space to find that Dein had taken a cloth from his kit and was trying to wipe off a century's worth of dust. Tanner helped him until they had cleared the console well enough to use it and Sh'rain set to work trying to get the system operational. After a few minutes, the console lights flared then dimmed to nothing again.

"Give it a bit less power, Dein," Sh'rain said. "We might be overloading it."

"Right," Dein said and did as ordered. Sh'rain tried again and the console lights came back on, flickering but stabilizing after a few tense seconds. Tanner found herself letting out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

"Shannon, take screen one, Dein, take three. See if you can access anything at all in these records."

The scientist and security officers complied and set to work. Tanner frowned; she wasn't much of an engineer, having taken only the required courses at the academy. And equipment this old was so foreign to her it might have been Klingon. Still, she persevered, plodding clumsily through the archaic framework and yelped when something came up on her screen.

"What is it?" Dein asked sharply, alarmed.

"I found something!" Tanner replied, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. Sh'rain and Dein came immediately to stand next to her and Tanner ceded her space to the engineer. Sh'rain frowned while look at it.

"It's a list of names," she said. "Fifty-four of them."

"We should call Vanek," Dein said, reaching to tap the control on the arm of his EV suit that would activate the long-range communicator.

"Yes- wait!" Sh'rain said, holding up a hand suddenly. "There's something attached to one of these files. Let me see if I can activate it."

"Sh'rain–" Dein started.

"Wait!" snapped the engineer and to Tanner's surprise, Dein did just that. The security officer outranked the engineer but Dein didn't seem to be willing to argue that point just then. Tanner didn't either, wanting to see what it was that Sh'rain had found before they called the other team here. Before Fairclough saw it.

"It's a video file," Sh'rain said. "It's suffered some degradation, but whoever created it was more than a little skilled. I'm trying to patch up the rough areas. Hold on."

Tanner let out a slow breath and jumped a bit in surprise when a human female face appeared on the screen. The woman looked to be of Spanish or South American descent, with brown skin, black hair and dark eyes. She looked worn and sick, dark circles under her eyes. She raised her hands to brush her hair back from her face and Tanner saw that she was shaking as she did so. She was dressed in an old-style Starfleet uniform, a gold dress signifying her rank as a captain.

"My name is Captain Donna Silvi. If you found this, I have to congratulate you," she said, a wry smile twisting the left side of her lips. "I hope you were able to find it without losing anyone to this thing that's killing us." She paused, glancing away to her right, then back. "I don't have much time. None of us do. Please listen to me carefully. We had no idea what we were doing when we were sent here. A man named Dereck van der Hoken from Starfleet Intelligence approached me two years ago and asked if I wanted to be part of a classified genetics project. The others have mostly the same story, but it wasn't always van der Hoken. We've all looked through the Starfleet records of the people who sent us; none of them exist. We were brought out here because of the top secret nature of our work – at least, that's what they told us. We were set up and given a series of projects, the first probably just designed to test our abilities.

"Genetic engineering. Oh, not on people. Creating vaccines and so on. The Romulans and Klingons had biological warfare agents that Intelligence knew about and they needed us to come up with antidotes without the other governments knowing. I'm sure that's true. We did that. They kept us on it, periodically replacing people, but only a handful. We were a good team, and our work had the potential to save Federation lives.

"It was James who figured it out. The project was under his direct administration. It didn't look like anything unusual. I didn't blink when it came across my desk. I just passed it on, like everything else. I should have checked.

"I always thought it was so strange that we were so close to the Klingon border and so far from the Federation core, but I never asked anyone about it. What did it matter? There were a few Klingon outposts along this area of their border, but nothing major. No one knew we were here. As far as Starfleet and our families were concerned, we were working at a secure facility in the Betazed system. But the Klingons…

"I don't know how they figured out that we knew. I know they aren't Starfleet Intelligence. They can't be. Even now, I can't believe Intelligence would send us to do something like this, and leave us to die. I can't believe that about Starfleet. I don't know who they are. But James – maybe if he hadn't realized, they'd have left us alone. No, I don't think so. This was always supposed to be our final project. A pathogen to attack Klingon DNA. Not to kill them – no, that would be too easy. To weaken them, make them sick, unable to resist– what? Federation invasion? Anything. But Klingons were always so much hardier than most of us. And the virus had preset programs that allowed it to infiltrate artificial air supply systems. Not at first, but they released it on us. The Vulcans held out longer. We had a temporary vaccine, which is why I'm here now, but it's wearing off. I can feel it. I can hardly feel my feet now, or my legs. They wanted to kill the Klingons and they killed us, too.

"Please, if you find this, take this recording and the list of names. Let the Federation Council know. I don't think they'd sanction this. And let our families know how we died. Let them know we did everything we could to stop this. The virus– we managed to reprogram it enough. A normal Klingon constitution could recover from it. It's still killing us, but it won't kill them. And maybe they'd invade us, because of this. Please, take this. Let them know. Don't bury us here. Please."

The recording ended and Dein swore under his breath. Tanner felt as if someone had punched her and leaned against a deactivated console for support. Sh'rain looked slowly from Dein to Tanner, then shook her head disbelievingly.

"Who would do that?" she asked.

"No idea," grumbled Dein, then hit the com activator on his sleeve. "Dein to Vanek. You'd better get down here, sir. We've got our answer."

* * *

By the time Vanek's party had arrived, Sh'rain had uploaded the recording into all three tricorders and was working on getting it onto a PADD. She wasn't taking any chances with losing the data and Tanner didn't blame her. Grimly, she took over for the engineer as Sh'rain replayed the grisly message for the others. Vanek and Soran took it with typical Vulcan stoicism, but Fairclough looked outraged. Tanner relaxed her mental shields a fraction and the fury pouring off the human engineer hit her like a brick. She gripped the console hard, reestablishing her shields.

"Commander?" Dein asked, giving her a concerned look behind his visor.

"I'm okay," she replied softly. "It's hard."

He nodded, his features set and angry. Tanner let out a slow breath and finished her uploaded.

"We're going back to the ship. Now," Vanek said once the recording had played through. He hit the communicator on his arm. "Vanek to _Blessing Way_. Six to beam up immediately."

They were beamed into a decontamination chamber and stripped from their EV suits. No sooner had Vanek stepped out of his suit than he was calling the captain and ordering a meeting of the senior staff. Vanek left with Soran and Dein hustled the rest of them to the door, falling into step behind Sh'rain, whose antennae were drawn together and who looked angry. Tanner caught Fairclough's arm before the other woman stepped through the doorway and pulled her back, seeing the startled look on the engineer's face. Fairclough spun to face her and Tanner stepped back, drawing her away from the door.

"What do you know about this?" Tanner demanded, anger threading into her voice. Fairclough had known something and was hiding it.

"What do _I _know?!" the other woman exclaimed. "What do _you_ know?"

"I didn't know anything until we heard that damn recording, anything except that I could have died from that thing! But I saw you in engineering. This wasn't a total surprise to you. How could it not be? Where did you find out about this?"

"I don't know anything!" Fairclough hissed.

"Oh yes? Perhaps you'd like me to tell you what you know then?" she spat, unable to help herself.

To her shock, Fairclough leapt at her, knocking her to the ground and pinning her there. Tanner struggled, but having been sick had drained some of her strength and Fairclough knew what she was doing.

"I knew it," the engineer snapped. "You _are_ Thirty-One!"

Tanner blinked, caught off guard by the non-sequiter. She felt herself relax a bit as the anger changed to confusion.

"I– Okay, yes, I am, but what's my age got to do with any of this?" she asked.

Fairclough blinked then, too, her expression mirroring Tanner's befuddlement.

"Your age?"

"I'm thirty-one years old," Tanner replied.

Slowly, Fairclough eased up and let Tanner sit up, but kept a wary eye on her.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?" she asked.

"No," Tanner said as plainly as she could. "I don't."

"Then what did you mean by you telling me what I know?" the engineer snapped. Inwardly, Tanner cursed herself. She had spoken out of anger, and too quickly.

"I'll tell you that, if you tell me what the hell is going on first."

Fairclough sat on her heels and sighed, rubbing her face with her hands.

"All right. I did know something about this beforehand. Or, at least, I'd heard rumours. I'm in Intelligence, Tanner. I was assigned to this ship precisely because the general flight plan took us past where we thought this planet might be. No one knew for sure where it was, or if anything had happened there, but for a hundred years, we've been looking. Only some of us, and very quietly."

"Why quietly?" Tanner asked. "If someone killed these Starfleet officers–"

"_Because_ someone killed these Starfleet officers. It's much, much easier to off a few intelligence agents here and there than it is to kill fifty-four people. And they managed that."

"Who are _they_, exactly?"

"An undercover organization that exists under the subspace transceiver called Section Thirty-One. They work a lot like we do in Intelligence but they have no mandate except to protect the Federation. They answer to no one but themselves. And before you tell me that Starfleet wouldn't stand for that, they are included in the original Federation charter. Most people don't get to see that section."

Tanner's eyes widened as shock and nausea coursed through her.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

"Yes. Just a moment." Fairclough tapped her communications badge. "Fairclough to Captain Yusumi."

"This is Yusumi, go ahead, Lieutenant."

"Captain, are you alone?"

"Vanek is on his way in momentarily–"

"Captain, before you talk to anyone else, I need to speak to you privately on behalf of Starfleet Intelligence. Delay the meeting. I'll be there in ten minutes. Fairclough out."

She turned back to Tanner.

"All we had to go on were rumours that Thirty-One had done this. That's all I knew. I was hoping we were wrong. Now, you owe me an explanation."

Tanner frowned, feeling cornered, but she had backed herself into this.

"I am telling you this off the record," she stressed. "If you tell anyone else, believe me, I _will_ know."

Fairclough nodded, taking her on her word.

"I have a genetic mutation in my brain. It was dormant most of my life, but it was triggered when I spent a year on a Vulcan science ship. All the meditative training did it. I'm a telepath."

Fairclough's eyes widened and she pulled back only slightly.

"Do _you_ work for Intelligence?" she whispered.

"No, and I don't want to," Tanner said firmly. "That's why I warned you that I'd know if you told anyone."

"I've– Someone told me once that we had someone like you working in Intelligence. I never believed it. Until know."

Tanner was surprised, but kept it off her face as best she could, nodding slowly.

"I might not be the only one," she conceded. "But I didn't know that until now." It was easy enough to lie to protect Kevin.

"Does Yusumi know?" Fairclough asked.

Tanner shook her head.

"Only el Naser and only because he's my doctor," Tanner replied. That wasn't entirely true, either, but she'd be damned if she was going to put anyone she knew in danger because of her.

"Then you're not coming with me to talk to Yusumi. Wait until she calls all of us together. And don't ever repeat what I've told you to anyone. If Thirty-One ever found out about you, especially with your abilities, that would be it for you."

Tanner didn't bother to ask if that meant she would die or if the shadowy intelligence agency would force her into their service. Either way, she didn't want to know.

"I want to be a scientist. That's it," she replied.

"Good choice," Fairclough said, arching an eyebrow. "I need to go now."

Tanner nodded as the other woman rose and hurried out of the decontamination chamber. Unsettled by what she'd learned, Tanner pushed herself to her feet and left as well, returning to the astrometrics lab for lack of anywhere else to go. There she met Soran, who informed her as to what she already knew: the meeting with Yusumi had been delayed. She made herself look surprised but nodded, as if accepting that the captain's decisions needed no explanation.

She settled herself in at a console and pulled up some data from a previous mission that she had yet to analyze fully. With a deep breath, Tanner set herself to her task, trying to put the recently revelation from her mind and concentrate on her work until Yusumi convened with them.

* * *

In the end, it was only the most senior officers who were fully briefed on what Fairclough had told first Tanner, then Yusumi. Yusumi and Vanek were both there, as well as Tanner, Dein, Sh'rain, and el Naser, all heads of their respective departments, as well as Lieutenant Frederick Masla, their ship's counselor. Deraan was there as well; Yusumi believed he should be aware of what had happened, since he had contributed to neutralizing the virus.

Tanner didn't have to feign the nauseous feeling she had hearing the information for the second time. She kept her mental shields up, locked tight, but could not hide from the expressions on the faces around her. Only Vanek looked composed, but a glint in his eye spoke at a deeply buried and well controlled reaction. Sh'rain and Deraan sat gripping each other's hands and Dein actually smacked the table with his fist when Fairclough was speaking, showing a moment's lapse in his control. He subsided under Yusumi's gaze but did not apologize. Tanner could see the anger smoldering in his dark eyes. El Naser just looked sick and sat with his eyes closed for the most part, as if that would help shut out reality. Tanner herself scrubbed her face with her hands when Fairclough finished her summary of the events that had caused the massacre. There was a moment's silence, then the assistant chief engineer spoke firmly about the importance of keeping this to themselves and the seriousness of the threat that Section Thirty-One posed. Tanner did not have to be told twice.

Yusumi spoke then for awhile, urging them to use the medical resources at hand in necessary. Tanner wondered who Masla would talk to if he was having difficulties with this. She'd always wondered why Starfleet would assign two doctors but only one psychologist to a deep space ship.

Eventually, Yusumi dismissed them. Tanner wondered if she should go speak to her science team, and tell them what she was permitted to: that this was an old affair into which Starfleet Intelligence had been looking and that they knew little else. She almost wished she wasn't chief science officer; then she wouldn't have to live with the knowledge.

No one spoke as they left, or made eye contact. Tanner felt stifled being on the bridge and decided she would go speak to her team. Better now and have them informed than have them listening to rumour and speculation. She preferred to have them up to speed, as much as possible. Stepping into the turbolift by herself, she steeled herself and headed for astrometrics.

* * *

Maris Fairclough was exhausted. It could be like this, working for Intelligence, sometimes. Emotionally draining. But this was worse. To have all of their fears confirmed… And to be utterly alone in deep space when it happened. At least it wasn't too likely that Section Thirty-One would find her out here. Unless they were hanging around the planet, waiting for anyone. Although… it was possible they didn't even know where this place was anymore. Stranger things had happened. Fairclough would have to ask Tanner to check on the crew as best she could, to make sure no one here was a member of that stupid organization.

But for now, there was other work to be done. Fairclough twined a lock of her curly hair between her fore and middle fingers, then shook her head and began establishing a secure channel as only an Intelligence agent could. It would take awhile to connect, but it would be worth it. Both to pass on the information and to talk to someone who would really understand what finding this planet meant. And someone who could maybe set things right with the descendants of the murdered geneticists.

While she was waiting, she rose and made herself a tea, and stood by the view port, watching the stars hang in the distance. They were still gathering information from the planet's computers, and then they were going to destroy everything on the surface, at her request. They were leaving the dead where they lay. They'd been dead for a century and Fairclough didn't relish the idea of having what was left of their bones in a storage bay for the rest of their mission. Having the knowledge in her head was enough.

The comscreen beeped, signaling that the call was going through and Fairclough hurried back to her seat, sinking into it as the image of an older human man appeared in front of her.

"Maris," he said by way of greeting, raising one eyebrow.

"Elias," Fairclough replied, setting her tea aside. "I have information for you."

* * *

Tanner pushed the buzzer on the door and waited a moment before she was admitted. El Naser looked somewhat surprised to see her, swinging his legs down from the footstool he'd been using and rising.

"Shannon," he said warmly. She nodded, brushing back her hair.

"I don't think I ever thanked you," she said, the doors closing again behind her.

"For what?" El Naser asked.

"For saving my life," she replied matter-of-factly.

He raised his eyebrows.

"That's my job," he said.

"I know. But thank you all the same."

He nodded, then approached her, pulling her into a hug. Tanner hugged back, grateful for the warm contact, the solid feeling of someone else in her arms. It made everything else seem a little more bearable.

"I wish I understood," el Naser said.

"So do I," Tanner replied, her voice slightly muffled by his shoulder. "But then again, I'm glad I don't."

He drew away, his lips twitching in a mirthless smile.

"Me too. Or else I wouldn't be a doctor." He paused, then shook his head. "I'm glad you found it."

Tanner sighed and el Naser gestured for her to sit down. She did and he went to the replicator, ordering himself a glass of wine, glancing over his shoulder at her. She nodded and he brought her a glass as well.

"I'm glad Fairclough is here," she admitted as el Naser sat down beside her, putting his feet back up on the stool. "Or else, what would we have done?"

El Naser sighed.

"I don't know," he admitted, sipping his wine. Tanner stared at hers for a moment, the dark red liquid gleaming faintly in the light. She rubbed her forehead, then sighed again.

"Those people are dead. Long dead. I don't– this is the most awful thing I've ever encountered. But I don't want it to hang over me for the rest of this mission. Or the rest of my life."

"Me either," el Naser said, clasping her knee warmly. She glanced at him and he gave her a firm, warm look. "Humans are adaptable. We'll learn to live with it."

"But not to forget," Tanner said.

"But not to forget," el Naser agreed. "None of us should."

"You're right about that."

"And we have each other," he pointed out. "Everyone on this ship has each other. Those Section Thirty-One people, they can't take that away from any of us. We're not alone out here."

Tanner smiled, a genuine smile, and relaxed against the back of the couch. El Naser slung his arm loosely over her shoulders and she leaned her head back against it. It would take time to come to grips with this, and she'd never understand the horror that had been visited on the people working on the planet. But the fact that the _Blessing Way_'s crew had found them, had learned of their demise, that mattered. It was justice, of a sort. A small justice, but justice nonetheless. And Fairclough had contacts back in the Federation core, people who could maybe do something about it.

And she wasn't alone. None of them were. It made a difference, especially in light of the horror they'd found. She took a sip of her wine and watched the stars outside, el Naser sitting quietly beside her, not content, but able to deal with the emotional storm this had stirred up.

In their computer database, fifty-four names sat waiting, as patiently as they had been for the last century. Fifty-four names forgotten until that day. Something for Fairclough and her people to go on. Something Tanner had been able to contribute to, in some small way.

It was a start.


End file.
